


Heart and Soul (of The Institute and a Lesser Known Love Story)

by Shaeydyrllah



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dark Comedy, Dark Jon AU, Elias is blown away by this disaster man, Have I put you guys off yet?, Jon becomes Head of the Institute, Jon doesn't know what an Archivist does, Jon has a crush on Jonah Magnus, Jon thinks he can do Elias's job better than Elias can, Jon willingly worships the Eye, M/M, Oblivious Jon, Smitten Elias, There will also be little a murder...as a treat, These tags dude, While Elias weeps from Jail, Who can start the apocalypse first?, You know...if you like Armageddon, You think Peter Lukas is going to fight him for it?, but hates his boss Elias, but he's enthusiastic enough to make up for it, elias gets bullied, happy ending??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24528712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaeydyrllah/pseuds/Shaeydyrllah
Summary: Anyone who truly knew Jonathan Sims could clearly state three things about him:1-He was devoted to The Eye and the solace it gave him after his entanglement with the Web. (So, of course, he was only too happy to become The Archivist...What does an Archivist do exactly?)2-He possesses a completely ‘platonic’ fascination regarding the founder of The Magnus Institute, (No Tim! I did not draw a little heart instead of an ‘o’ in ‘Jonah’ I simply smudged the ink)3-He feared his boss, Elias, was either a naive fool, unaware of the divine repository of knowledge he sat upon or, he was an imbecile, truly incapable of serving The Eye competently. In which case, Jon was more than happy to relieve him as his duties as Head of the Institute.Unfortunately, much to Elias’s amusement and the rest of The Archival staff’s horror, no one knew Jon terribly well.And as for Jon...well...becoming The Heart of the Institute was both easier and harder than he thought it would be.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonah Magnus/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 15
Kudos: 97





	Heart and Soul (of The Institute and a Lesser Known Love Story)

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the Jonelias Discord Server XD
> 
> I'm sorry but this is the Dark!Jon AU that you neither asked for nor deserved

For the third time that week, Jon violently shoved down the urge to throttle the Head Archivist of The Magnus Institute of London.

Jonathan Sims had many virtues, patience wasn’t one of them, nor was humility and honesty for that matter. On second thoughts, perhaps Jon wasn’t a particularly virtuous man if he was being honest with himself, which he seldom was.

Or maybe there was just something about Gertrude Robinson that set his teeth on edge, something that inspired curling tendrils of anticipation and wariness to tighten around his chest in her presence. Quite possibly it was her perfume; doses of lily of the valley in such a large quantity should be labelled as toxic and a public health risk in his opinion.

Everything about Gertrude from her tobacco-stained teeth to the pungent scent of floral funeral arrangements and her obnoxiously dull clothing screamed her ordinariness to the world.

Jon didn’t like it one bit.

The painful mundanity of her facade, deliberately obscuring herself from Jon’s consuming gaze felt like nothing short of an insult. Jon knew a predator when he saw one, and when he saw his own slightly alarmed eyes reflected back at him in the sweet old lady’s glasses he knew fear.

Gertrude glanced up from her desk, barely registering the sight of Jon glowering at her as she placed her coffee mug on the ageing and battered pages of what Jon knew to be a statement; tiny milky droplets trickled down the side of the cup spelling certain doom for the papers it was so carelessly placed upon.

Jon sucked in a breath sharply; feeling outraged on behalf of The Institute and for that matter The Eye. How one could so shamelessly squander the gifts of the Beholding as Gertrude did was completely beyond Jon. He knew he’d cherish any scrap of favour The Eye would deem him worthy of.

Gertrude Robinson was a walking blasphemy, and from the sly little grin behind boring beige lipstick, Jon knew that Gertrude was very much aware of her crimes.

“I’ve brought the file you requested,” Jon announced quietly, eyes darting around the room, drinking in every detail of the devastating mess.

It itched at the back of his mind to see the disarray of files and that one corner of the office with a pile of broken tape recorders where it appeared from the state of the chipped plaster that Gertrude had been hurling them at the wall.

 _She doesn’t deserve to be The Archivist._ Jon thought bitterly.

Gertrude blinked at him; eyes narrowing for a moment, feeling self-conscious Jon looked away and adjusted his tie awkwardly making it even more lopsided.

She nodded and gestured to a small patch of carpet that hadn’t been defiled by her chaotic lack of organisation. “Just leave it there.”

With great reluctance Jon placed the file on the ground; previous encounters with Gertrude had proven it unwise to make casual suggestions about how she could improve her job performance, like not putting an eighty-six-year-old document on the floor next to torn bin bag with the rodent’s foot peeking out of the tear; and maybe taking care of her assistants better.

Jon found it difficult to fathom how Gertrude had even reached such a high position in The Archives whilst retaining a strong disdain for the God she was bound to. He often thought of his first encounter with The Eye with a mixture of terror and fondness, as fond as one could be of an Entity that ate fear.

‘Eye Spy’: An innocuous enough name for a book.

From The Library of Jurgen Leitner.

_“I spy a boy sitting in his bedroom alone.”_

_“I spy a boy scratching his wrist with a ruler to bypass the cast on his left arm. The boy regrets climbing the sycamore tree, twenty-two days ago.”_

_“I spy a boy glancing around his room in confusion, suspicious as he wonders whether his Grandmother is playing a trick on him. He is worried that she knows he’s been in her room, that he’s seen the photo album.”_

_“I spy a boy dropping my book and staring at it in fear...in fascination.”_

Needless to say, a young boy of six having encountered such a book had a monumental shift of perspective.

Jon supposed that the dreams also played a part in his early won allegiance to The Eye.

He was fairly certain from his very first perusal of The Institute that the place was connected to The Eye. There was that familiar prickle at the back of his neck, a feeling of sheer exposure which should by all rights be terrifying, yet knowing The Eye was always watching over him provided a sense of security, comfort even. If the sense of paranoia wasn’t convincing enough then perhaps the surplus of eye paraphernalia worming its way into every nook and cranny of The Archives was a bit of a giveaway. Having more than one stained glass window depicting a giant floating eye in the sky was possibly a little excessive.

Drawn from his reminiscing Jon decided it was best to swiftly leave Gertrude to her own devices less she decides that he was _useful_.

*~o0o~*

Elias Bouchard smiled kindly at the fascinating creature sat across from him, said fascinating creature regarded him with the same scorn one might reserve for something scraped off the bottom of one’s shoe.

Jonathan Sims was an enigma. It was utterly irresponsible for Elias to allow such a wild card into his Archives but his tendency for indulging his curiosity often overcame his sense of rationality. What was the point in Watching if there was nothing entertaining to Watch?

Attempting to squirm his way into Jon’s thoughts was like sticking his head in a blender.

A painful blur of thoughts raced past too quickly to distinguish in a hazy static screech. Instead of being annoyed, he was intrigued by Jon and he considered Watching him to be a challenge. Elias was never one to back down from a challenge (unless it was issued by Annabelle Cane, he knew better by now.)

Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but pry, just a little.

Elias’s face twisted in half disappointment, half amusement, at least it would have if he was semi-competent at pretending to be a human being; as it stood the only indication of the swirling turmoil of interest was the slight widening of his eyes.

_Resistance._

There was always resistance when he tried to Read Jon, his mind as prickly as the man himself. The buzzing static reached a nerve searing crescendo as he rapidly withdrew entirely from his effort to _get to know Jon._

The only thing he managed to glimpse from his efforts was that Jon seemed to be captivated by the painting behind him.

Having eyes himself, Elias was already aware of the fact that Jon had been shooting glances at the painting of his former and truest self Jonah Magnus. It had, after all, been an exceedingly long time since anyone had looked upon his original visage. There was something about the cautious way that the researcher regarded his painting that made Elias feel odd. When Jon didn’t think he was paying attention he would stare openly at the painting, only withdrawing his scrutiny when Elias gave him a questioning look.

A soft flush of colour spread across Jon’s cheeks as he attempted to both avoid Elias’s eyes and avoid looking at the painting.

Elias leaned back in his chair; the aged creak of the well-worn chair broke the uncomfortable silence that had descended on the room.

“This is your third complaint this week, Jon.” His voice sounded too indulgent and warm to come across as reprimanding. “What tragic horrors have befallen The Archives today may I ask?”

Jon gave a huff of annoyance as he tugged on the loose sting of his shirt cuff, not hard enough to remove it but enough to increase its length. He continued to look anywhere but at Elias, a fact that irked him greatly.

“It’s _her_ , she’s doing it again!” He spat. “Yesterday I couldn’t even get through her office door; there was a bloody harpoon in the way, not to mention the blood on the Kennedy’s statement...don’t get me started on the coffee.” He grew more agitated as he regaled Elias with tales of Gertrude’s atrocities. “She’s supposed to make The Archives better, to c-care for them.”

Elias was mildly surprised by the zeal of Jon’s fury on behalf of his Archives. Gertrude was often problematic; there was little doubt about that. However she was the one that had come the furthest out of his previous Archivists, she was promising.

“Perhaps Gertrude could do with some _assistance_ ; being in charge of such a large domain can be a daunting task.” A note of humour entered his voice as he watched Jon rapidly pale at the mention of ‘Assistants.’

“I didn’t realise that The Institute was in such a dire need of funding.” Jon smiled at him nastily.

“Oh?” Elias steepled his perfectly manicured fingernails.

“Well,” Jon finally, _finally_ looked him in the eyes. “That is the obvious explanation for why you’d be willing to let more staff...go...” He trailed off.

The implication wasn’t lost on Elias.

“You’re quite experienced Jon, perhaps you’d like to rise to the challenge if your current area of research is no longer fulfilling.”

A small thrill raced through Elias as he saw the way Jon’s expression darkened at the unspoken threat. He wondered how aware Jon was of the true purpose of The Institute and the lies that served as its pillars.

Jon rose from his chair slowly; casting one last glance at his painting that dare he say it seemed wistful?

“Gertrude Robinson doesn’t belong here.” He started slowly, thinking over his next words carefully, “She is the poisoned berries beneath the flower petals, the smoke foretelling the flame.” He sighed deeply, “She has no care for the knowledge she touches and wishes only ruin upon this place.”

Elias swallowed, entranced by Jon’s trembling rage, and barely restrained shouting as he managed to coat each word with treacherous civility.

“Is that so?” Elias restrained the urge to wince at the sudden almost breathy quality of his eager response.

Elias may not Know Jon but Elias could recognise his own kind. The burn of power washing over him from Jon’s words which came out too verbose and eloquent considering his incensed state made him pause.

“Yes.” Jon hissed. “You may not care about what has become of The Archives but I do, mark my words Gertrude is not fit to be The Archivist!”

*~o0o~*

There were some days when Jon had doubts about Elias. It was seemingly impossible for anyone to hold the reins for such a vessel of power, to own The Institute and be so completely and painfully dense.

Jon’s eyes bored into the locked door to Gertrude’s office.

She felt wrong. There was a visceral reaction of disgust when he was in her presence as if she were anathema to The Eye.

Anyone truly connected to The Eye should easily be able to feel the decaying cords running from Gertrude to The Archives, a sick parasitic stain draining their knowledge with no intention to feed and nurture them.

Jon’s thoughts turned viciously to Elias wondering how the very epitome of a receptacle for research into the obscure and fascinating terrors of this world could end up in the hands of an oblivious middle-aged bureaucrat. What would Jonah Magnus think if he could see his Archives become a place that let any old riff-raff desecrate it?

Jon wasn’t entirely sure what an Archivist did but he was positive that Gertrude was doing it wrong.

Perhaps the numerous deaths and her lazy attitude towards basic office cleanliness could be forgiven. Her disregard for the statements and knowledge under her care could not.

The solution was simple. Jon would become the new Archivist and relieve The Archives of the blight and rot that had descended upon it under Elias and Gertrude’s neglect.

And as for Gertrude, there couldn’t be two Archivists could there?

**Author's Note:**

> lmao this is probably very ooc


End file.
